Communication Error
by Random Ruth
Summary: "Finch is contemplating throwing his coat on and going to see for himself what's happened—the sounds that are coming through his speakers now are doing nothing to quell the disturbing and bloody images that always pop into his head at times of such uncertainty and disconnect from his employee." One-shot.


**Communication Error**

* * *

Reese and Bear are both following their latest Number, a person Reese and Finch both deeply suspect of being a perpetrator. Finch watches the dot that represents Reese's GPS signal move along on the map on one of his monitors. This is the part of the job that makes Finch feel the most helpless—if something were to happen now he would be stuck here, unable to help. So he watches the dot, keeps the line of communication open between him and Reese, and drinks tea.

After a few more minutes of listening to Reese's quiet breathing and almost silent footsteps, the sudden gunfire coming through the Library's speakers makes Finch jump. He almost spills his tea at the same time but is saved because he's already drunk half of it.

Two shots—three—and all goes quiet.

Finch doesn't dare breathe for a moment, cup forgotten in his hands as he strains his ears to listen for any sign of life. "Mr Reese?" he asks at last, tentatively, and when there's no immediate reply some worry seeps into his voice. "John?"

He can hear something, he's sure of it. Heavy breathing—and he knows that it's Reese. His heart lifts a little in relief—gunfire followed by silence always sets his imagination racing. "John, are you okay?" He has to know.

Reese finally begins to say, as if from a distance, "Fin—" but the word's cut off by a muffled snuffling noise, followed by a _crunch_, _crunch_ and then a _slurp_. Worry reasserting itself, Finch wonders if there's been a technical problem. He taps at a few keys but the unusual sounds continue as if he'd done nothing. The sound has evolved into something resembling constantly rumbling thunder with the odd interspersed wet _gurgle_.

"Mr Reese?" Finch ventures again and this time there is no reply at all, however delayed. He watches the dot as it starts to move, turning a corner and making fast progress to the end of another block before slowing down to something close to walking pace. Finch is contemplating throwing his coat on and going to see for himself what's happened—the sounds that are coming through his speakers now are doing nothing to quell the disturbing and bloody images that always pop into his head at times of such uncertainty and disconnect from his employee.

_Gurgle, rumble, rumble_...

Finch almost drops his cup for the second time when the phone in his pocket rings. He plucks it out, and is both surprised and relieved to see that the caller is John Reese. "_Mr Reese!_ What happened?" he asks quickly, voice high-pitched with poorly concealed concern.

"I had to kneecap our guy," Reese replies nonchalantly and Finch can easily visualise the shrug. "I called an ambulance—it's on its way."

"Yes, but—" he starts. Finch can't think of suitable words to ask about the strange noises, so instead he goes with the standard—and infinitely more important, "Are you hurt?"

"No. He tried to take a shot at us—we had to use a dumpster for cover... are _you_ okay, Harold? You sound a little... tense," Reese says.

In the background the Library's speakers are still relaying the unexplained _rumbles_ and _gurgles_. "I'm fine, Mr Reese, honestly, I just—_what_ is that noise?"

"What noise?" Reese asks, clearly uncomprehending.

Instead of answering Finch turns up the volume on the computer's speakers. "That noise," he clarifies.

There's a pause as Reese listens and Finch awaits the explanation. "Oh, that..." Finch hears a quiet chuckle before Reese continues, "I think Bear swallowed my earpiece. It fell out when we dived for the dumpster."

Finch glances at the empty dog bed at his feet, his face turning red—he's grateful on this occasion that Reese is elsewhere. "Oh," he says simply.

"You really should consider a redesign, Finch," Reese goes on, the chuckles louder now. "Those earpieces really look like expensive treats."

Bear barks his confirmation of this fact and the noise coming from the speakers gets considerably louder.

"I suppose you don't want the old earpiece back, Mr Reese," Finch says.

"Hmm," Reese hums, amused. "We're on our way back now, Finch." He is obviously struggling to hold back a laugh as he hangs up.

The teasing is likely to last for weeks, Finch knows, as he terminates the signal coming from Bear's own temporary internal communications system.

He finishes his lukewarm tea and watches the dot's progress towards the Library.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
